Fairyland Chronicles - Character Side Stories

[Yurrechire]

The evening sun slithered over a tangle of blonde hair on the couch, turned it to gold with touches of crimson. Cat had tried to straighten out the mess, but the locks clung to her rough hands like spiderwebs, and, after a time, she left them alone.

The hapless woman now sat in the armchair beside the prone figure, chin-in-hand, holding a dutiful vigil. It wasn't supposed to be this way-- words were supposed to work, when it came to your own allies. Still, McWren found herself using fists more and more often to get the point across. This was not good.

Just like the wanted notices in the paper were not good, and the wild hunt that the gray-armored fey was mounting against the stupid kid she sought to protect. Sora got into things way over his head, that was true, but he did not deserve harm.

He deserved to be as he once was, a bright-eyed shadow slip amidst the towering columns of the underground cemetery, playing hide and seek with the dark. A bit of memory dislodged itself, sharp splinter- getting stuck in the softer underbelly of McWren's mind. She shook her head violently, letting go of the thought.

Slumped back in the chair, resuming her quiet study of unconscious Reilinn's bruised face.

====


A steaming plateful of scones rested atop a rock bench in a small forest shrine, complete with a jar of jam and a note.

The note read thusly: "Oh Midget of Great Tanking Abilities and Nuking Prowess! Forgive the transgressions of this puny human, and allow her to witness the joy of Your Smiting Skills once again!"

The scones were, of course, poisoned-- Yet the note seemed sincere.

Time passed, morning-turning to afternoon, before a puff of fairy dust signaled the arrival of intended target. A minute, steel-encased fey strolled into the shrine as if he owned the place, which, upon second thought, he probably did. Having read the note, Amdusias murmured something, stroking his ego, and picked up one of the scones.

Took a bite

Dropped like a brick.

Some quarter of an hour later, the tenacious brown-robed figure returned to the scene of the crime, gaze-casting about with only a faintest of hopes. Today, however, the dark god was with her, for, lo! There! A knocked-out midget on the floor!

Reaching into her belt pouch, McWren withdrew two items-- a pair of tweezers and a glass flask, acquired from a Juno sage by the name of Aurora. The small, faintly stirring body got gingerly lowered into the flask; the flask-stoppered. One Pissed-Off-Fairy-Grenade was ready to go!

Afternoon turned to evening, and as the fey regained his senses, he noticed that the gentle swaying of his glass prison was more of a jerking, galloping motion.. That cold began to permeate the insides of the flask.
For so it was, that McWren and her trusty Cookie travelled swiftly and with great intent, threatening the physical well-being of many a Kafra associate, and covering truly monumental distances from the temperate forest that the flower fey called their home.

Upon the barren wastes the rider and her mount stalked, finding at the very long last the track of the great ice wolf, the horror of Lutie fields! The bugger almost ate Cookie on a number of occasions, and now was payback time. McWren shook the flask vigorously for a time, before launching it into Garm’s face.

The Pissed-Off-Fairy-Grenade exploded upon impact, releasing a steaming, full-sized Amdusias .

"Sick'im, midget!" Called McWren with great enthusiasm, spurring the bird to get the hell out of Dodge.

====


The dream popped like a soap bubble, startling Cat from her slouch in the burgundy chair. Beside the woman’s outstretched legs, the body-imprinted sofa was conspicuously empty.

“… Now I’m dreaming about them, too? For the love of the unholy, this is getting ridiculous.”